Frank Forello: SNYPED
by Tears of Deathwishxxx
Summary: Anyone remember my Faded Existence story? Well, I got a new story. Props to my homeboy, Wild Imaginations for the use of one of his characters from the Badfellas series. BTW, Cortez. You can't sue me cuz I asked you!
1. Ryker's Island

**I'm back! And this time, it's time a new ballgame. No Punisher, though. Just the Snypa. Oh, yeah. This does take place in Marvel's New York, though. And Cortez, thanks for the use of your character. You can't sue me because I _asked_ you.

* * *

**

In Manhattan, New York, was a prison island. One of the most known maximum security prisons ever. It was Ryker's. Ryker's Island contains one of the most dangerous criminals ever to grace Badfellas City, New York: me, Frank Forello. I've done just about every fuckin' crime there is in the goddamn book. Basically, I'm a menace to what you call 'normal' society. That's why they sent me to Ryker's with the super maniacs such as Hammerhead, Bullseye, the Vulture, Scorpion, Jigsaw, Mystique, just to name a few. Once, Frank Castle got captured and sent here, but he managed to escape somehow. Stupid-ass fuckin' law enforcement. You can't contain the Punisher. Shit, they even got that Magneto dude in here. Of course, they got the plastic cell for him. They don't want him _attracting_ anything, if you get my drift.

* * *

**2 Weeks Later**

I got a visit. It was from my main man, Roscoe. No contact visit. I went beserk on my cellmate for touching my bunk. He spent about three weeks in the infirmary. I got a few days in the hole.

"Sir," Roscoe started.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?" I snarled.

"Don't?"

"You got the idea," I replied. "Go on."

"Okay, Frank," Roscoe said.

I liked it better when he addressed me by my first name.

"Somebody sent me an envelope with a picture in it."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's of Bridget, take a look."

I looked at the picture. It disgusted me. My daughter, naked with only tattered shreds of clothes to cover her and a gun to her head.

"So, what the fuck are you gonna do about this?" I demanded.

"Nothing, unless you're with me." Roscoe replied.

"You're not thinking of…"

"Yep. You've got an early release coming up," Roscoe said with a grin on his face. "We'll be back."

I couldn't wait.


	2. Escaping For a Rescue Mission

RYKER'S ISLAND- 2:00 AM

I'm in my cell, waiting, watching… when I hear two loud explosions, followed by assault rifles being fired. I hear the guards at the watchtower:

"Get all available guards to the yard! We're being attacked!"

I instantly pop up and call for the guard. He comes to me, opening my cell. So fuckin' dumb.

"What the hell do you want, Forello?" he demanded.

"Nothing important, I was wondering if you had…"

I reached out and grabbed the screw's arm, then kicked him in his knee. He reached for his baton. I was faster. I let the palm of my hand fly into his Adam's apple and snapped his arm.

"AAAAHH! FUCK YOU, FRANK FORELLO!" the screw managed to get out through coughing up blood.

I decided to go ahead and end this by picking up the baton and beating him until his brain fell out of his skull., then picked up the keys. I ran out of my cell and through the cellblock, waking up my fellow inmates.

"C'mon! Get the lead out your asses!"

I was met by a screw with a 12-gauge pump action, aimed at my chest.

"Hey, Frank," he said. "I like you, man. I don't like too many prisoners in Ryker's, but you're an exception. That's why…"

The guard lowered his weapon and held it out.

"I'm letting you pass. I heard about your daughter, now take it."

I was kinda confused. Why was this hardened sumbitch giving me his weapon? Then I heard why as he cocked it and aimed it at me again.

"Take it and get the fuck outta here, before I change my mind!"

I took the shotgun and fired, then continued on my merry way.

"Didn't say I felt the same way about you, buddy."

I got to the control room for the death row inmates. I decided to open these animals' cages up and let them have a bit of fun. I got on a PA as well.

"HEY! You fucks want out of this place?! Then you cause these screws a bit of trouble. You work for Frank Forello now!" I yelled.

As these monsters came out of their cells by the bunches, I got a lot of fuckin' cheers.

"Thanks, Mr. Forello!"

"We love you, man!"

"You kick ass, Frank Forello!"

I love when my audience responds to me. So anyway, I grabbed an M-16 and some extra clips. As I made my way up some stairs, I was met by some opposition.

"This is your first and last warning, Forello! Drop your weapon and go back to your cell!"

"Hey, I got a better deal! Why don't you bitches fuck off and die?!"

I let my M-16 play its song and in the end, there was blood. It wasn't mine, though. I heard a male voice call to me.

"Frank! Over here!"

It was Roscoe. He's so reliable. That's why he's my right hand man. I forgot to mention that he was in an Army chopper. I ran toward him and fired my weapon at any guard in my way, as did Roscoe. A guard came up behind him.

"Roscoe, behind you!" I yelled.

Too late, my main man went down. I fired at the screw, filling him with hot lead. Son of a bitch, he paid for it as I came over and fired three rounds into his skull.

As I turned around, Roscoe got up slowly. I was kinda shocked.

"Frank, I don't die so easily. You wouldn't be able to have me at your side if I did."

He was right about that, I couldn't call him my second-in-command if he did. We boarded the chopper, piloted by my little brother, Oliver.

"Hey, bro! I got an honorable discharge from the Armed Forces. I can do what the fuck I want now!" said Oliver.

"Frank," started Roscoe, pulling bullets out of his Kevlar. "I got someone in mind who can help out."

"You thinkin' who I'm thinkin', Roscoe?" I asked. "If so...Oliver, take us to Los Angeles!"


	3. The Snypa

**Los Angeles, California- 4:35 AM**

There were sounds of glass shattering and running footsteps, followed by gunshots.

"It's him!" a voice yelled. "Get him!"

It was none other than the Snypa, fighting off scum in his city. A thug came from the right and the Snypa's fluent movement combined with his sawed-off shotgun made him pay with his life. A second thug came up with a .22, but stopped short when the Snypa raised the shotgun. Where the thug's noggin once was, a geyser of blood was created. This left the leader.

"Fuck you, Snypa!" he yelled as he ran down the steps.

The Snypa fired. Missed. He slowly followed him, knowing this lowlife would eventually make a mistake. Moments later, the vigilante was in the cool air of the LA night. The thug decided to raise his .45 pistol at the Snypa. There was the mistake as six bullet holes mysteriously appeared in the thug leader's chest. Snypa holstered his shotgun and pulled out his trademark battle rifle, complete with 40 millimeter grenade launcher and capable of firing semi-auto or three round bursts, like a 5.56.

"Who's there?!" he yelled to the darkness of the night. "Show yourself or die!"


	4. A Favor To Ask

I heard a voice yell to the night after I fired some shots into this lowlife. I stepped from the shadows of the alley.

"Evening, Snypa," I said. "Nice night for a kill, ain't it?"

The guy in the mask and trenchcoat pointed his rifle at me. I was staring down a dangerous barrel and I didn't even know the heat he was holding. Roscoe came beside me and pointed his AK-47 at the guy.

"Roscoe, put the gun away," I hissed.

"What?" Roscoe said, shocked.

"I said, put the fuckin' gun away!" I snapped.

The masked man looked at me.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Who do you work for?"

"I don't work for anybody, Snypa," I said. "I'm Frank Forello."

The masked man put pressure on the trigger at the sound of my name.

"Frank Forello, huh?" said the Snypa. "I've always wanted to take a trip to Badfellas City."

"Well, you're welcome to visit." I said.

The Snypa didn't take his eyes off of me. He still kept his weapon pointed at my chest.

"No need," he finally responded. "You've saved me the trouble of coming to kill you."

"I need a favor. For my daughter, though." I said.


	5. Beginning of a Rescue Mission

The Snypa decided to lower his gun and listen to what I had to say.

"You got two minutes, Forello," said the Snypa. "Until I kill you."

Arrogant son of a bitch. Who the fuck does this prick think he is? I told him my story about how Bridget got kidnapped by some cult who holds a grudge against me. I think I killed a few members. Who gives a shit? Cults are for pussies, anyway.

"Just what the hell does this have to do with me, Frank?" asked the Snypa.

"It ain't got shit to do with you," I responded. "I just need your help to help me get my daughter back."

"Fine," the vigilante replied. "I'll help you."

The Snypa came close to me and put a pistol to my temple.

"But let's get some shit straight. I ain't doing this for you. This is for your daughter, because I don't wanna see anything happen to her over her irresponsible father."

I was beginning to hate this guy and regret coming to him. I just wanted to take that gun he had to my head and just shove it straight up his fuckin' ass at that moment.

"You got any leads?" asked the Snypa. "Gotta be able to start somewhere."

I took the picture of Bridget out of my pocket and showed it to him. He looked at it with disgust.

"I know where this is," the vigilante said after a pause. "It's in Australia. But unless you got a magic carpet that comes out of your ass that'll take us there, you're fucked."

I glared at that fuckin' vigilante again. Goddamn asshole. I can't wait until this shit is over with.

"Oliver!" I called to my brother in the chopper. "We got one more coming with us! We're going to Australia!"

* * *

**10:00 AM the next morning PST, 3:00 am in Australia.**

The chopper that my brother Oliver was flying went over the Pacific Ocean. We hadn't even made it yet.

"Hey, Oliver!" I yelled. "Where the hell are we?!"

"Calm down, Frank," said Roscoe. "We're almost there."

About some three hours later, we landed in Melbourne, Australia. It's about time. The temple of the bastards who kidnapped my daughter were gonna pay. Oliver, Roscoe, and myself were all heavily armed- thanks to the Snypa supplying us with some heavy duty toys. I found out some good info: this cult, the Outback Moon, they were also terrorists who tried to take over Australia. Most of them were captured, tried, and hung. But most of them escaped to Melbourne and went underground. Too bad their self-induced exile won't last for much longer...

**Well, I'm not gonna draw this story out like I did my Faded Existence one. I'm gonna end this in probably ten chapters, if not less.**


	6. Fuck With My Daughter, Will You?

The Outback Moon was a cult that sometimes used terrorism to spread their message. This time, their message was to Frank Forello:

**"You killed the nocturnal messengers of God, and now the sins of the father chall be paid by the daughter."**

Bridget Forello was chained to a wall, covered with bruises and cuts, wearing her tattered clothes are being raped by a member of the Outback Moon every two hours. Another man in a black-and-white hooded robe walked in.

"Don't you come near me!" screamed Bridget.

The robed man walked near Bridget and backhanded her.

"Silence!" he hissed.

His finger found the pink slit between Bridget's legs. Bridget winced at the cult member's fingers inside of her. She spat on him.

"Disgusting monster!"

That was all the mystery man needed as he shoved his cock inside of the chained Forello woman and proceeded to forcibly slam her against her will.

Hours later, another cult man came in and did the same thing when the ceiling caved in.

* * *

**(Back to Frank POV)**

I came in through a caved in ceiling, cradling my AK-47. When I finally touched the ground, I saw my daughter, covered in another man's orgasm. She had been raped, but how many times? I didn't give a shit, as I saw some motherfucker pulling up his pants and trying to hide in his robe. I pointed the AK at him and fired, turning him into swiss chesse. An alarm sounded and three more cult fuckers came in and suffered the same fate as their friend here.

"Dad!" Bridget screamed.

I turned to my daughter, whose arms were chained to a wall and naked, except for what shreds of clothes covered her. She had bruises on her face and other parts of her body. These pricks can fuck with me, but with my daughter? Oh, hell no! These fuckers were _definitely_ gonna die. As I freed Bridget from her bonds, I felt a searing pain in my shoulder. Someone had gotten close enough to slash me. I looked at my wound. No. It was a kunai. Long-range attacker. I raised the AK-47 chest high.

"Come on out or get blasted!" I yelled.

I heard another whoosh. Another knife being thrown. I wasn't fast enough as the kunai hit me in my arm. I dropped my gun and rolled through to avoid a third attack. Who the fuck was this throwing shit at me? I tell you about these fifth-grade sissies.

"Dad! Behind you!"

Bridget found my attacker. He was pretty high up and in this dim-ass candlelight, it was fuckin' impossible for me to see his ass.

"Stupid bitch!" the voice yelled.

A fourth attack was aimed at her.I dove to shove her out of the way, then quickly drew my 5.56 millimeter machine pistol and fired in the direction the kunai blade came from. I saw a body fall to the ground. I walked over to my fallen attacker. Goddamn ninja wannabe. What the fuck is up with cult assassin who dress up like ninjas? They look like fiends tryin' to rob the neighborhood dope man. Another entrance raised, this time with a shitload of these cult fuckers. Damn! They just don't stop, do they? At that moment, I saw a grenade drop in front of the cult boys, then go off. I shielded Bridget and took cover as my enemies were cleared out. Coming down from a zipline was the Snypa .

"What the fuck are you two still doing here?!" the Snypa asked. "Get the fuck out!"

No need to tell me twice, though I was gonna eventually kick his ass. As Bridget and I almost made it out of the Outback Moon temple, there stood a large man in another black robe but with red across the front. It looked like blood. Behind his back I could kinda see was someone's spine.

"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Forello?" the large man asked. "You're a guest in our temple. Surely, we can't allow you and your daughter to leave so abruptly."

With that, the man revealed what was behind his back. He had ripped someone's head off with his bare hands and the head was attached to what looked like a spine. Then I recognized the head. The son of a bitch killed my boy, Roscoe! There was no fucking way I was going for that shit. This motherfucker was going down big time!

"Bridget, I want you to take this," I said, handing her my 5.56 pistol. "Take that and get out of here."

"But, Dad...what about you?" she asked, sobbing.

"Don't worry about me, baby," I assured her. "I'll be fine."

I turned to the prick who killed Roscoe and pointed at him.

"_You_...I won't be able to say the same about your big ass!"


	7. You Tried To Ruin My Life

This gorilla-sized fuck had killed my best friend and I was gonna make him pay. I rushed him and tried to hit him with a jumping roundhouse kick to the face, but he blocked it.

"Is that the best you have, Mr. Forello?" he mocked.

"Mr. Forello was my father, the little faggot." I snapped. "You can call me your executioner!"

I came at him once more and tried to throw a back kick in his midsection. He grabbed my leg and threw me by it into a wall. I got up, dizzy as hell. Time to go to plan B. I took out my 12-gauge pump action from my back holster and fired twice. The motherfucker barely flinched. What is he, the Russian or something? He can't be touched by guns or some shit? Fuck it, I kept firing and reloading. The guy walked toward me until I ran out of shells. Then he proceeded to bend my shotgun barrel upward and then lifted the gun with me holding onto it. He flung me away like I was a bug.

"Come on, Frank," he taunted. "Can't you do better than this?"

Fuck this. I wouldn't stop until this asshole was dead. And _he was gonna fuckin' die_, even if he took me with him. I come out of the woodwork with another kick, which the son of a bitch blocked. Fuck! What the fuck was it gonna take for me to win this?! Then I hear gunfire and see this imitation of the Russian get knocked back. It was the Snypa, dime-store mask and all.

"Didn't I tell you to get the fuck outta here?!" he screamed. "GO!"

"So, the Snypa has joined our little party," said the giant fucker. "He can leave the same way you will- in a body bag!"

"Why'd I spare you, I'll never know," said the Snypa. "It won't matter, Rips._ I'll_ kick your ass for you."

He knows this prick? What, are they ex-lovers? Fuck it. I'll kill 'em both in the process. The Snypa holstered his little customized rifle and drew two knives. I watched this vigilante get into some strange fighting stance. I could kick his ass if I wanted. Then the showdown began. I did as the Snypa said and ran. I wanted a piece of Shoujuri, the leader of the Outback Moon. He was the one who had my daughter kidnapped and I was gonna tear this son of a bitch a new ass.

* * *

Shoujuri, the leader of the Outback Moon was in his office with a harem of underage teenage he had manipulated to join his pathetic cult. They were satisfying him, according to what they thought was the "will of the gods," to prevent angering them by granting their "nocturnal messenger" the desires he wished for. Shoujuri was enjoying himself until the automatic titanium sliding doors were blown away. An Italian-American man stood where the door once was, armed with twin 9 millimeter pistols.

"SHOUJURI!" he screamed. "YOUR ASS IS MINE!"


	8. My Father, Alive?

**Get ready for a re-enactment from the Takagi Building Level from "The Punisher" game, only Frank has the role of Mr. Castle and Shoujuri takes the role of Takagi. It's the level before you get to Ryker's Island. But guess which fashion it ends. Let's just say that there's "strength, but no honor." BTW, I don't own this game. THQ and Marvel comics teamed up to make the Punisher game and a few of the phrases come from Frank Castle and Takagi when they meet in his office, the rest is from the borderless expansion that is my mind.  
**

* * *

Shoujuri, a Japanese man, looked up at me and my silenced 9mm pistols. So did the underage girls that were doing his bidding. 

"Nice to finally meet you, Frank Forello," he said with a Japanese accent with a hint of Australian. "But, please..hear me out."

I tightened my grip on my guns and raised them right at the fucker's head. I moved slowly toward him, prepared for any tricks he might pull.

"You have to understand, Frank," he sobbed. "It was the will of the gods to kidnap your daughter."

"Save it!" I snapped. "Was it also the will of the gods for you pricks to rape her as well?"

"I knew nothing of that," said the scared 'high priest' of the Outback Moon. "That must have been the _real_ leader's wishes!"

I still thought he was full of shit as I advanced further. Then three more people in cloaks appeared from a hole in the wall behind him, armed with .40 caliber sub-machine guns aimed at me, completely flanking the prick I was after.

"Wait," said Shoujuri. "Mr. Forello, I want you to do something for me."

"I'm listening," I snapped, pistols still lifted.

Shoujuri threw me a holstered sword from behind his armed flunkies.

"My bodyguards will not attack you if you do as _I_ ask. I want you to take that...and kill me. I have lost everything, even this 'cult,' as you call it to the true leader of the Outback Moon- Gary Forello, your father."

My old man? Still alive? It can't be. I killed the old prick myself!

"Gary has won, the Outback Moon is his. I have but only 100 loyal members left. Believe me, I deserve to die. And I would rather die at your hands, Mr. Forello, than at those of your father's. So please, end my life with the ceremonial katana I have just given you. It is only fitting that _you_ use it."

I holstered my guns and looked at the blade. I unsheathed it. The guards moved out of the way as I prepared to kill their lord and master. I raised the sword and then...


	9. Honorable Death

I raised the sword and then...

* * *

...turned and then slashed the first two armed bodyguards and then shot the third. Shoujuri growled in frustration and pulled out a revolver. 

"You have strength, but no honor!" he growled, running and firing a shot at me.

I wasn't honorable because I wasn't gonna use a sword to kill the son of a bitch? I was gonna give him an honorable death, but it would be Frank Forello style. A revolver contained six shots and Shoujuri had used them all. He had no ammo left to reload. I popped out with my 9 millimeters, pointed right at him.

"You live without honor, Frank Forello!" Shoujuri screamed. "And that's how your end shall come about! It will be without honor!"

"Honor this, honor that..." I mocked. "Just shut the fuck up, you miserable old wanker!"

I didn't see it. Shoujuri pulled out a sai and attacked me. Honor, my ass. He caught my arm with the blade. I recovered as Shoujuri prepared to attack me again. I stopped him and rushed him up on the wall behind him. Then I took the sai and drove it through his wrist. I reached for his other sai and put it through his other wrist, too. Now, here comes the "honorable death" part that I was going on about. I pulled out a grenade, pulled the pin, and stuck it in the fucker's mouth. How's that shit for honorable, bitch?! And if that wasn't bad enough, I also shot him in the crotch and walked away.

"You got your honorable death, shithead," I said. "Take it and die."

* * *

I immediately ran back to the battle that was taking place between the Snypa and Rips, the giant Swedish fucker who killed my friend. It looked like the Snypa was winning... 


	10. Gary's Revenge

I rejoined the fray with a Tae-Kwon-Do spinning back kick to the huge Swedish prick.

"Ooh, Frank Forello and the Snypa are playing rough," he said. "I'll fix that."

And he decided to, by smashing the ground and sending us flying. The Snypa got up and ran at the prick. What was his name again? Rips? Yeah, that's it. Snypa dodged and jumped on his back, following up with a rear naked choke attempt. The guy's neck was thick, I'll say that much. Then I ran in, picked up a wrench that was lying near by and smashed it into his kneecaps. Rips screamed in pain like a little bitch. Then finally, I took one of his arms in a jiu-jitsu kimura and basically ripped his shoulder out of place, followed by his muscles tearing. I switched that into an armbar and just said 'fuck it all' and snapped his arm in two. Thick-ass arm, it took me a full minute. The Snypa released his choke and pulled out a chain which had a...buzzsaw blade on the end of it. He wrapped the chain around Rips' neck until it was completely impossible for him to let go, then pulled on it. What happened next...was pretty decapitating as the Swedish fuck's head fell off his body, but was hanging on by a thread of skin which finally snapped and the head rolled down on the floor. (I thought my idea of an honorable death was something when I made Shoujuri swallow that grenade, which was funny as hell.)

* * *

BADFELLAS CITY, NEW YORK- 6:30 PM THE NEXT DAY. 

I made it back to my mansion, followed by some of my men and the Snypa, who was rather cautious of stepping into my home. Well, it could have been a trap and I kill him, but I decided that I needed him. I sat at my desk in my office. My men took various positons in my office. I told them my next move.

"Since the old fuck is still alive, we have to be really careful," I said. "Anyway, he's probably got word of the Outback Moon's destruction and we're gonna have to step hard if we go after him."

The Snypa stepped forward. My guards reached for their weapons. The Snypa went for his as well. We had a Mexican standoff, but no Mexicans.

"EVERYONE PUT YOUR GODDAMN WEAPONS AWAY!" I screamed. "WE AIN'T GONNA HAVE NONE OF THIS SHIT UP IN HERE!"

Everyone except the Snypa put their guns away.

"Now, this is what we'll do..."

* * *

EAST BADFELLAS CITY, NEW YORK- 7:34 PM- FORELLO MAX HEADQUARTERS

Gary Forello sat at his desk smoking a cigar and a young prostitute was performing fellatio on him.

"Yeah, bitch!" he snarled. "Suck that dick!"

"Mmm," the whore moaned, sucking more of the old fuck's prick. "You Forellos have really big dicks!"

Minutes later, the whore got off her knees, wiping her lips. A scrawny informant ran in with a note, which he gave to Gary. Gary opened the note and read it.

_"It's time I put your bitch ass out of commission once more, you fuckin' faggot! You're going down, Dad, and not a **damn fucking thing** will save you._

_ -Your son and soon to be executioner,_

_ Frank Forello."_

The whore walked over to Gary for her payment. Gary looked at her and backhanded her.

"Get out, bitch! That's what you get! Can't even suck dick right!"

The slut ran out of the office holding her face. Gary growled in frustration.

"FRANK!!!!!!!" he screamed. "I want everyone in this fucking office _right now_! We're going hunting."


	11. Forello Family Night!

Gary Forello's men stood around him.Gary came in the center of the circle with a briefcase and set it down on a podium. He opened the case and in it was cash.

"$75,000," he said. "25 for each of you and 50 more to the man who kills my boy."

"But, sir," one man began to ask. "Why are you paying us to kill your son?"

Gary turned to him with a nine millimeter and shot him.

"That's why, you dumbfuck! Get him outta here, he's runing my floor."

* * *

**Kinda reminds you of Howard Saint, don't he?

* * *

**

Gary continued. "You're here because you're supposed to be the best. Don't make me regret investing in you."

"Yes, sir!"

Gary's new hitmen walked out of the office to begin their mission.

* * *

(Back to Frank)

I began plans to storm my old man's headquarters. His ass was mine. I had the perfect plan while the Snypa had disappeared to wherever vigilante psycho murderers go. Then I heard the whirring of a chopper. My men and I ran outside, only to see the Snypa emerge from it in new gear with an XM29 Objective Individual Combat Weapon. He told us to step in, where he opened a crate filled with FN P90s and AK-103s because AK-47s were played out. He also gave us flak jackets. We suited up and got in the chopper, piloted by no one except my little brother Oliver.

"Hey, Frank!" he said. "Does Dad know that we're comin' for him?"

"I don't know," I replied. "And if the old fucker does, I don't give a fuck beyond fucks! I'm the new Grim Reaper and it's time to take his soul to hell, so fuck him and all of you! You don't like it, Snypa? Fuck you, too!"

The Snypa gave me a dirty look.

"Why are you even still here?" I asked him. "You helped me get my daughter back and that was all I needed, so why the fuck don't you just jump out this chopper?!"

The Snypa finally said something.

"Look here, bitch," he said. "You can kiss my ass, Frank Forello. I just wanna see justice handed down to the prick who kidnapped your daughter, then I wanna beat your ass beyond all belief."

Fair enough. We didn't say too much of anything else to each other until we got to the building my father's headquarters was. When we flew over the building at 40,000 feet, we had an idea:

My dad knows I'm coming for his ass, so he'd expect a ground attack. But I think two moves ahead of the senile dickhead and apparently- the Snypa does, too- 'cause we're coming in from the air. The chopper got at 40,000 feet and we jumped out with parachutes and our rifles at the ready. Just then, we heard gunfire.

"Who's shooting?" I yelled.

No response.

"Who the fuck is shooting?!" I yelled again.

My men weren't, so who was it. Just as got closer to the building, we saw them. Mounted anti-aircraft machine guns on the roof of the old man's headquarters at all angles. Three hundred and sixty degrees of total offense against the air. He thought ahead of _me_. I thought I had it all figured out. I saw my men dropping like flies when I heard my sorry-ass excuse of a father's voice:

"What's the matter, son? You look quite shocked! Did you think I wouldn't expect you to think the front entrance would be guarded? Did you think I wouldn't know you'd attack me from the sky? I know you, Frank. I'm your father."

I was pissed that he had thought that far ahead. I fell faster toward the roof when I drew my AK-103 and fired the grenade launcher attached, taking out some of the gunners. Then the Snypa came behind me with his M79 and hit three more mounted gunners.

"You've enlisted the help of the Snypa, have you?" Gary taunted. "You'll die too, Snypa!"

My father's building was losing its 360-degrees of his defense against sky attacks slowly. We finally reached the roof when the machine guns automatically turned to us in the middle...


	12. Forello: SNYPED

**Author's Note: I need to have a little fun before I continue this story. As a matter of fact, I'm gonna end the story here. So get ready for a long battle in this chapter.**

**T.o.Dxxx: Who likes this so far?**

**(critics and whiny bitches boo and jeer)**

**T.o.Dxxx: I didn't ask _y'all_, so go have a track meet on the freeway, you fuckin' cocksmokers!**

**(idiots have a race on a busy freeway and all of them get ran the fuck down by an 19-wheeler. Fans of _Frank Forello:Snyped_ cheer and rejoice that the world is rid of stupid people) **

**Okay, back to reality! Sorry, I know you were enjoying the thought of the world's IQ increasing. But you gotta take into account that stupid people have more sexual intercourse more than anyone and they also reproduce more than normal people. _Now_ do you understand why the world's IQ is slowly dwindling? Shame, ain't it?**

**

* * *

**

The machine guns automatically turned toward us. Even though there was really no longer 360 degrees of defense, we could still be screwed.

"You came to kill me, but _you're_ going to die," my punk-ass dad went on. "How ironic."

"Dad, please shut the hell up!" I screamed. "Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own mouth?!"

"I wouldn't be so chatty if I were you, son."

Just as the guns were going to fire, I saw a hail of gunfire come from the sky, some of it almost clipping me. It was Oliver, being a reckless showboat. My brother has a tendecy to show off his skills as a former military chopper pilot. Some of the machine gunners were destroyed and the rest aimed at the chopper.

"Go! I'll handle this!" Oliver screamed.

I simply took his advice and ran, as well as the Snypa. We let Oliver distract the machine gunners while we kicked in a door on the roof and ran down a flight of stairs and decided to go through another door. While we ran, we heard an explosion and a scream. Not my little brother, no! The old man was gonna pay big time. I told the Snypa to wait while I go take care of my father. He obliged, seeing a bunch of my dad's soldiers come at us, armed with AK-47s. I watched the Snypa work his skills as he drew that FN P90 and fired at the oncoming soldiers, no bullets wasted and each one hitting their target. Damn, that's some good shootin'. I turned and kicked in the door to my father's office. He was waiting for me with an M-16 in his hands and fired, the bullets piercing my armor and my shoulder. I screamed in pain. Cop killers. Good choice to put in an assault rifle. I guess it's true what they say: like father, like son.

"Did I hurt you, son?" mocked the old man. "That's too bad. At least you won't feel anything when you die. Just like Roscoe and Oliver, huh?"

"Fuck...you," I hissed, spitting out blood and struggling to my feet.

My father walked over to me. "Frank, that's not a..."

He kicked me in my ribs, which hurt more than the bullets.

"...nice thing to say to your father!"

He held the M-16 pointed at me still.

"I told you, Frank," the old man boasted. "I'm your father. I know you better than you know your own damn self."

"Shut...the..fuck...up," I growled, struggling to my feet.

Dad squatted down and punched me in the face.

"You're a disgrace to this family, Frank," he said. "But I won't kill you. A father shouldn't bury his son."

As if I felt better about that. If I could get up, I'd kill him.

"I'll leave that to the son's brother, Peter."

This definitely had to be Forello Family Night! My brother Peter walked in with a billy club.

"You tried to kill Dad, Frank," said Peter. "That's fucked up."

"You little daddy's boy bitch," I said, finally getting to my feet as Dad walked out. "I should kill you for being an ass-kisser!"

Peter swung the club. I ducked, but it hurt like hell, then I grabbed one of his legs. Peter dropped the billy club. Big mistake when fighting Frank Forello. I picked it up and mounted him.

"Peter, you are no longer my brother. Just another dead fucker who got in my way."

I raised the club as Peter begged me for mercy. I ignored his cries as I brought the club down repeatedly. When I got up, I dropped the blood-soaked club and went after my father. I went toward the staircase, but soon as I opened it, I heard a beep. I looked up and saw the door was booby-trapped. I barrelled into the door opposite from that one and took cover as the door exploded into bits and some of the stairs imploded. That was one of my only ways out and I damn sure wasn't gonna fuck with the elevator! So what did I do? I ran back toward my father's office and dove through the glass and out of the window. Suicidal shit, ain't it? I activated my backup parachute and safely touched the ground about five minutes later. I saw my father's limo speed away below me. I pulled out my MAC-10 and fired. No impact. Bulletproof windows. Shit. Then I saw something that looks like a flare go through the side of the limo and explode after the limo overturned. Someone had fired a grenade lanucher. Then from out of the shadows came the Snypa. He stole what was supposed to be my glory moment. But wait, I saw someone crawl out of the limo. The Snypa didn't take my victory after all. I saw my father crawling out of his limo, hurt. I walked over to him and put the MAC-10 in his face.

"Just do it, son," he said. "I know I wasn't a good father to you, but let me make it up to you with my life."

"Shut it!" I screamed.

(This next line comes from my boy's third Badfellas story, quoted by Frank Forello.)

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Gary, you are now _dead to us_!"

I pulled the fuckin' trigger and unleashed my entire fuckin' clip into his chest. I didn't let go of the trigger until the bullets ran out. I picked the old man up and put him in his own limo's trunk, then placed some C4 in before closing and detonating it. That was the end of my father, Gary Forello. As I walked away, the Snypa called out to me:

"You didn't forget, did you?"

"What are you talkin' about?" I replied.

"I told you, Forello- I was gonna help you get this prick, then I was gonna kill you." I heard the sound of a clip being loaded into a gun. I turned around and saw the Snypa's submachine gun pointed at me. I pointed my MAC-10 at him, then threw it down.

"You want some of this, Snypa?" I screamed. "You and me, hand-to-hand!"

* * *

The Snypa dropped his weapon and walked toward me. Once he got close enough, he threw a left hook-left middle kick combo that I moved back from and responded with a spinning back kick that was caught and turned into a sweep by the Snypa that sent me down to the ground. I got up and quickly went for a right hook that he turned into a judo throw. 

"Too slow, Forello," the Snypa chuckled.

That arrogant son of a-- I'll show him! I rolled backwards to my feet and tried my best for a roundhouse that the Snypa blocked and hit me with a series of punches, followed by a jumping hook to my temple and a kick to my wounded shoulder that sent me down.

"You see, Forello..."

I struggled to my feet when Snypa kicked me down again. I had enough. I pulled out a knife and got to my feet despite the fuckin' pain in my shoulder. I charged the Snypa when he turned with a knife of his own. As I charged, I felt something drip from my throat. I touched and saw the result on my hand: blood. That son of a bitch slit my throat. Then I felt something penetrate my throat. Another knife. I spit up some blood, fell, and then...darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Once more, I am giving props to BADFELLAS INC for the use of characters in this story. Thanks to the people who read and reviewed it, even the one village idiot who took it upon himself/herself to unnecessarily flame me for giving props to THQ and Marvel comics by _borrowing and re-enacting_ the Takagi Level in the Punisher game, though I did make some changes and add some things. Though I don't give a shit about you 'cause I'll never meet you, I still wanna thank you for begging for my attention by reading my story and leaving me a review that you'd knew I'd respond to. You finally got the attention your parents never gave you at home- now please go drive on the opposite side of the highway and eliminate yourself from this existence by running into an 18-wheeler head-on.**

**A/N Part 2: To everyone who liked my story and are fans of Frank Forello, I'm sorry for killing him off. The owner of Frank Forello said that he wanted to eventually kill Frank off and I decided to do it for him. Aren't I nice?**

* * *

I was in darkness, then I heard a voice call out to me as I saw something dim. Then it got hot...

* * *

A/N: **Anyone wondering where Frank's gonna wake up at about now?**

* * *

I woke up to intense heat and I saw fire.

"Where the fuck am I?" I wondered aloud.

Was I in a wastleland or in the middle of a forest fire? Those answers diminished when I saw an emo guy dressed in black with a pitchfork in his hand...

Oh, no...

**THE END!**


End file.
